I Will Burn The World For You

KETRA OVER A DECADE AGO “Stop—don’t come any closer,” I pleaded, my voice shaking, but he didn’t listen. His footsteps echoed in the silence, each one dragging my fear higher as he closed the space between us. I backed away, heart hammering, until the cold wall pressed against my spine, trapping me. Panic clawed at my chest. “Please,” I whispered, my words breaking, “my father… he won’t take this lightly when he finds out.” My voice trembled, desperation lacing every syllable as my fingers fumbled blindly along the wall, searching for anything, an escape, a handle, something that could save me. My wide eyes stayed locked on him, watching the menace in his approach. He smirked, his tone low and cruel. “Your father won’t do anything.” And before I could scream, he lunged. He dragged me down to the floor, tearing at my clothes. Before I could even breathe, he yanked his pants down, exposing himself, and with brutal force tried to enter me. Agonizing pain tore through my body. I screamed, thrashing, clawing, begging. “No! Please, someone help me!” My voice broke into the darkness, desperate, helpless. And then— I jolted awake, heart hammering, breath ragged as though I’d truly been fighting for my life. My hand flew to my chest, gripping tightly, trying to convince myself I was still here. It was only a dream. Just a dream… I muttered shakily, running trembling fingers through my hair, tugging at it like I’d lost my grip on reality. My eyes darted across the room, needing to reassure myself I wasn’t trapped there again. The door burst open. Ruby and Mandy rushed in, but Ruby came to me first, wrapping her arms around me, her voice soft but urgent. “Calm down, Ketra. I’m here.” Still trembling, I couldn’t return her hug; my body wouldn’t stop shaking. Mandy sat beside us, her hand moving in slow circles against my back, grounding me. “It’s all a dream, okay? Just a dream.” But the words didn’t ease the terror still clawing inside me. I pulled away from Ruby, my voice hoarse, trembling. “It felt real… like it was happening all over again.” Ruby cupped my face firmly, her eyes burning with conviction. “Listen to me, he’s not here. That monster can’t hurt you anymore, and I won’t let him. Tonight, you’re going to get your justice, your revenge.” Mandy’s voice joined in, sharp and certain. “We’ll make him pay, Ketra. He’ll regret ever crossing paths with you.” Their words sank into me like fire. I managed a small nod. “Okay.” “Now… breathe,” Mandy whispered, guiding me. “In and out. Calm yourself.” I drew in a shaky breath, then another, forcing the panic to loosen its grip. Finally, I sniffed, exhaling hard. “I’m fine now.” Rising to my feet, I moved toward the dark dress hanging on the rack, waiting for me like a silent promise. My fingers brushed over the fabric, cold and smooth beneath my touch. I’ll make that bastard pay for every scar he’s left on me. Ruby’s lips curved into a grim smile. “That’s the spirit. Damon will be here soon, we should get ready.” “Yeah. You two go,” I said, my voice steadying. They exchanged a glance, then slipped out, leaving me alone with my resolve. I changed quickly, sliding into the black dress, the one I’d stolen long ago from a mummified corpse in Egypt. Strange as it sounded, it fit me perfectly now, as though it had always belonged to me. At the vanity, I uncapped a red lipstick and dragged it across my lips, bold and sharp. Blood-red. It matched the fury seething in my chest. Reaching for the white fur mask, I fastened it over my face. Tonight was a masquerade party after all, and for me, the mask wasn’t just part of the party. It was part of the hunt. I rose from my seat and descended the staircase, each step steady but heavy with the weight of what was to come. Halfway down, Damon’s voice drifted up to me, smooth and confident. “You always look stunning in anything you wear,” he said. A faint smirk touched my lips. “Tell me something new, Damon. That’s always been a fact,” I replied, my heels hitting the last step as I turned toward the living room. There they were, Mandy and Ruby, already dressed, their sharp eyes scanning me with quiet approval. “Black has always been your color,” Mandy remarked, her voice calm yet edged with something more, pride, maybe, or warning. “I know,” I answered simply. “Enough with the compliments. Let’s focus.” We had already gone over the plan. “Mandy, Ruby, you follow the food delivery truck. Stick to the route, and remember: if things go wrong… well, let’s just hope they don’t.” They exchanged a brief glance before heading out, leaving Damon and me to our part. He led me to the car, and we pulled into the night, the city lights blurring past my window. For a while, silence hung between us, broken only when Damon’s voice cut through the hum of the engine. “Are you scared?” I scoffed softly, though my grip on my dress tightened. “Scared? No. Just wondering if he even remembers me. Men like him do their evil, then forget—the faces, the pain, the lives they ruin. But the victims… we don’t forget.” Damon’s jaw flexed, his voice firm, certain. “Whether he remembers you or not doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’re going to remind him. You’ll make him feel every ounce of the pain he gave you.” My chest tightened at his words, anger and resolve swirling like a storm. “Thanks,” I murmured. Before I could add more, the car slowed. We had arrived. Damon parked quickly, his eyes flicking to mine. “I’ll be here waiting,” he promised. I gave him a small smile, though my heart was pounding. Pushing the car door open, I stepped out into the cool night air, every nerve alive with anticipation. The hall loomed before me, its grand doors guarded by two men in suits checking invitations. An exclusive party. By invitation only. And of course, I had none. But I was ready. Squaring my shoulders, I walked straight toward them. “Ciao, bellissima. Where’s your invite card?” one of the guards asked, his tone polite but firm. “Hola, signore,” I greeted with a faint smile, masking the sudden nervousness curling in my stomach. I quickly reached into my purse, pretending to search for an invitation I knew I didn’t have. My fingers fumbled through the compartments, pulling out meaningless items, before diving back in again, more frantic this time. When there was clearly nothing to find, I lowered my gaze, letting disappointment shadow my face. “Oh no… I must have left the card at home,” I said softly, with a small, regretful sigh. “I’m sorry, señorita,” the second guard replied, his eyes apologetic. I lifted my head, my expression pleading, my voice carrying a hint of desperation. “Is there any way you could help me?” His jaw tightened. “I wish I could,” he admitted honestly, “but it’s strictly by invitation. I can’t let you through… even if I want to.” Resigned, I turned slowly, letting my shoulders slump as if defeated. But before I could take more than two steps, a commanding voice cut through the evening air. “What’s all this commotion?” I turned at once, carefully hiding the flicker of relief behind the mask I wore. My eyes landed on a distinguished, middle-aged man whose aura alone spoke of power and wealth. Everything about him, the tailored suit, the sharp eyes, the subtle confidence, screamed Don. Exactly who I had expected. “I forgot my invite at home,” I explained, feigning embarrassment, “and they won’t let me in.” The man’s brow furrowed as he glanced at the guards. “You left a beautiful lady standing out here in the cold… for this?” “With respect, sir, we were only following orders,” one of them answered quickly. The Don’s stern expression melted into charm as he turned back to me. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, for making you wait,” he said warmly. Then, without hesitation, he declared to the guards, “She’s with me.” “Grazie, signore,” I murmured gratefully. “No need for thanks,” he replied smoothly, offering his arm. Without missing a beat, I looped mine through his, letting him guide me past the velvet ropes and into the glittering warmth of the venue. The moment we stepped inside, I gently slipped free. “I just need the ladies’ room real quick,” I told him, my tone light. He pointed down a corridor. “That way. I’ll be in the hall.” I nodded, following the direction he’d given, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Once inside the ladies’ room, I faced the grand mirror stretching across the wall. My reflection stared back at me, my mask hiding more than just my features. I inhaled deeply, steadying the adrenaline coursing through me. Then—creeeak. The door behind me eased open. My body stiffened instantly, and I spun around, heart racing. I turned sharply, my breath catching when I saw the Don step into the room. “What are you doing here, signore?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the door with an unsettling calm, the soft click echoing louder than it should have. His slow steps carried him closer, his eyes heavy with lust, and I felt the shift in the air, I already knew where this was heading, and I braced myself. “I came to collect on that favor I did you,” he said smoothly, his gaze never leaving me. “You owe me one.” “And you think cornering me in the ladies’ room is the best way to collect?” I asked, keeping my tone even though my pulse spiked. “Of course,” he replied without hesitation. By then, he was standing directly in front of me. Suddenly, his hand shot to my waist, yanking me closer, his breath hot against my cheek. I didn’t flinch. Instead, I moved slowly, deliberately, my fingers slipping toward my purse as he continued his vile promises. “If you’re a good girl,” he whispered, his hand sliding up to my neck, “I could go slow… make it good for both of us. And if you taste as sweet as I imagine—” he pressed a wet kiss to the side of my throat, “—I’ll make you mine.” I stayed silent, though disgust burned through me like fire. My hand finally brushed against cold metal inside my purse. Almost there. Another kiss landed on my skin, and that was the last he got. My fingers curled around the iron knuckle ring. In one smooth motion, I slid it onto my hand. With a small, deceptive smile, I placed a palm on his chest and whispered, “Close your eyes… I have a surprise for you.” He chuckled, mistaking my calm for surrender. “I knew you were that kind of girl,” he said, smug, before actually closing his eyes. That was his mistake. I swung hard, the knuckled steel connecting with his forehead in a sickening crack. His eyes flew open wide, shock flooding his features as blood immediately streamed down his brow.